


The First Dance

by Vreliskriri



Series: Blinking stars [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers, The End of an Era of Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:54:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23475793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vreliskriri/pseuds/Vreliskriri
Summary: The First will live to see another year, and its new hero has made it past her eighteenth nameday. With the weight of imminent death off her shoulders, Rine can finally breathe again and explore strange, fluttering feelings that have gone unaddressed before.In the heat of victory, she comes face to face with those feelings much sooner than planned.
Relationships: Alisaie Leveilleur/Warrior of Light, G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Warrior of Light, Y'shtola Rhul & Warrior of Light
Series: Blinking stars [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1688869
Kudos: 9





	The First Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long awaited conversation occurs between two friends.

The night sky drapes itself around the First like a curtain. Starlight through the window, on G'raha's fingertips. Light on his feet up the spiral staircase of the Cabinet. Soft steps, as to not give the hero a fright. Gentle humming, as to not sneak up on her. 

At the very top of the stairs, G'raha finds a Nestarium. He got the idea from Lyna some... well, a good few years ago, and passed it on to homes where children were having nightmares. It's a simple game of pretend: High stacks of books for the walls, many, many pillows to fortify the floors, a blanket ceiling to keep out light and a chair for the one who chases the eaters away. Judging by the symmetry, this nest looks to be one of Moren's, built for a storytime. 

G'raha kneels down by the Nestarium wall and lifts the blanket just enough to peek inside. For a second, bright eyes stare back from the darkness. Then there's a soft thump as Rine's head sinks back into the nearest pillow. G'raha lowers the blanket and maintains the squat. He can wait, so he waits.  
  


“And they all returned to the castle, where they would live happily ever after,” Rine says, very, very quietly. “We made it.”

“Yes, we did. Do you still need to rest?”  
  
“No, it’s fine, I wasn’t sleeping before. Or after you turned up. I had a small headache, but that must have passed while I… No. I must have dozed off.”  
  
“For a few moments, possibly.”  
  
She lifts the blanket, stands up and steps out, careful not to topple the wall.  
  
“How long? I’ve had the others worried sick, for sure.”

“As of now, you’ve been away about a quarter of a bell, so, no. Y’shtola saw you taking off alone and asked me to make sure you were alright, but that’s all.”  
  
Rine looks relieved. “Right. Shtola would have come herself if she felt the need for it.”  
  
“You weren’t in your room, so I’ve been checking my favourite napping spots, and the Cabinet of Curiosity is high up on the list.”  
  
“The smell of old books is comforting.”

“Smells like home, doesn’t it?”  
  
Rine nods.  
  
G’raha gestures to the nearest table.  
“No need to hurry back just yet. There’s still some time until the first dance, and I was actually hoping we could talk.”

G’raha pulls himself a chair. Rine takes the one opposite to him, turning it around so that the backrest is facing him. This would upset G’raha if he didn’t know better. 

“There’s going to be dancing?” she asks, folding her legs into the chair and her arms to rest on the back of it. 

“It’s a party,” he says.

“A party and not a celebration? Sounds like I was too quick to slip away.”  
“Are you alright, old friend?”

”Just ‘friend’ will do. I’m- my eighteenth nameday was last week.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Raha. ’They grow up so fast’, am I right? Can you-”  
Looking miserable, Rine snaps her mouth shut.  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
“...wrong and foolish of me to ask.”  
  
“What? Come on. I can keep a secret.”  
  
“Right. You can. I should have known that without asking.”  
  
 _Oh._  
 _  
_G’raha scrambles for words of comfort, for another apology. Then it clicks. A smile plays on his lips.

“Is this about the platformed shoes?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I could tell right away. You have grown, but not that much. It’s okay, though! I won’t tattle.”

Rine’s eyes light up. Like a large pyre on a dry summer day in the middle of a meadow.

“That damn face... you’re doing the G’rin.” 

She pounces, lunges at him over the backrest and across the table. G’raha embraces the hug, letting his friend bury her face in his chest. 

”There, there,” he says, patting her shoulder. 

“I- I hate it.”  
  
”No, really. I am sorry to hear that. You would know if you but looked up at me.”  
  
”You’re- you are still making the face, aren’t you?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“I hate it... missed you. Gods, I missed you so much. Recognized you right away when you caught me at Ghimlyt. And then at the gates of the Crystarium. Acting as though you’d forgotten you ever knew me. It was convincing, confusing. It _hurt_.” The last word is more a hiss than a sob. 

“Rine, I-I thought you didn’t know until Mt. Gulg.”  
  
“I wasn’t sure. Not whether the friend I knew was gone or lying to me on the daily. Who was the Exarch, if not you? How could he trust me with the future if I couldn’t be trusted with the truth?”  
  
“And now?”  
  
“It’s you. Really you. I see you smiling and listen to you hum and take you for the G’raha who taught me Allagan letters and smuggled snacks into camp at night. You’ve begun to talk to me as though I was an entirely real person as well, not a hero in a storybook.”

“Was it that bad?” 

“Yes.” 

“Hells.”  
  
“Look, Raha, you wouldn’t want your friends to remember you by how many primals you’ve flared out of existence.” Rine untangles herself from him and wipes her eyes into her sleeve in a quick, angry motion, moving up to perch on the armrest. 

“I can’t not think of the primals you had slain by the time we met, considering all the times you roasted fish on the back of Ifrit-Egi.”  
  
“Right.” Her jaw relaxes a little.   
  
“I remember when Y’mhitra first brought you to camp. At a glance you looked like the kind of kitten who grows up to wear a lot of orange and hide in a cold, poorly lit tent researching scrolls until her eyes assume the color of old paper, but that’s an impression I’d had of most of my friends in the Find. So I went to say hello.”  
  
“Mhm. I was proud, you know? People were excited. The first summoner of our age, living proof of Y’mhitra’s theories and so on.”  
  
“But they still wouldn’t give you their stuff.”  
  
“Oh, they didn’t make it hard. I helped some people out in the field, fought some mirrorknights, and boom. Priceless artifacts. Was it you who borrowed his tent so I could try them on?”  
  
“You’ve got a good memory.”  
  
“Well… it was a bit of an experience. The shoes were a perfect fit, but everything else? The coat was too big, the tunic didn’t fit right and the headdress was constantly sliding over my eyes. The long pants supposed to be worn under the waistclout I ended up ditching entirely.”  
  
“Ouch. I’d forgotten about that.”  
  
Rine has been gradually sliding off the armrest onto the floor as she spoke. Now she’s sitting on the floor hugging her knees with a ponderous expression.  
  
“So people did take offense? Blast. On me, the thing was long enough to work as a skirt, but still… it _was_ weird that no one objected to breaking up the set like that.”  
  
“No, the thing is… those were my pyjama trousers, Rine. Y’mhitra didn’t want you to feel embarrassed, so you weren’t told. I wasn’t given such mercy.”  
  
“Ah. _T_ _hat’s_ why you excused yourself to go fish." She chuckles into her sleeve and adds, deadpan: "Poor you.”  
  
“You were a great fishing buddy. Incredibly powerful Allagan magicks, and you used them to make snacks on the spot. Rammbroes wept real tears.”  
  
“You never seemed to mind.”  
  
“Mind? I would say I’d do the same if I became the first summoner of our age at your age… if I was sure I could come up with the idea. And the fish were delicious.”  
  
“They were. Still are. We should sneak out sometime and do it again- Frithrik from the Facet of Fishing has shown me a good place.”

G’raha nods. Then his eyes go wide in delight.  
“Then I was right! Your Ruby Carbuncle-”  
  
“-is an Egi in buncles’ clothing. Acts like one, too. One can’t tell outside of the battlefield, and even then you’d have to be familiar with the Egi’s abilities. Like you.”  
G’raha beams.  
  
“Now is not the time to get into the math of this, but please borrow me the notes on how you did it.”  
  
“Will do! I’ll have to ask Thubyrgeim, since they’re her notes, but I’m sure she’d be happy to share the knowledge.”

G’raha arches a brow.  
  
“Ah. My bad, I don’t think I ever talked about her much. To us Lominsan arcanists she’s Guildmaster Regent, so to speak. My first teacher. First thing she taught me was how to cast spells, well, safely. She’s also the one who initially recommended me to Y’mhitra.”  
  
“I see… thank you.”  
  
“About a year back, Thubyrgeim made a theory based on Y'mhitra’s summoning research and summoned me to test it, and you’ve seen the results yourself.”  
  
“Altering an Egi’s physical form… I wonder what the limitations are.”  
  
“We all did. I started experimenting with shapes other than Carbuncles almost right away, but there was hardly any progress until my last experiment. The Egi wouldn’t stay stable for more than an instant.”  
  
“When was your last experiment?”  
  
“Two moons ago. Not long after your third summoning attempt. It got out of hand, “ Rine says quietly. G’raha closes his eyes.  
  
“Do you want to talk about it?”  
  
“I know I need to, I just need to figure out how.”  
  
“Don’t think you must shield me from how you feel. From one terrible liar to another, it doesn’t work very well.”  
  
Rine exhales through her nose.  
  
“From one weary hero to another, just brooding about it together is enough for now. However, I’ll try to write down what happened so that we can discuss it from a research standpoint later.”  
  
“That sounds good. Are you ready to go back to the party?”  
  
“Yes, Exarch,” the Warrior of Darkness nods and offers her hand to help G’raha up.  
  
“With the permission of your frail, old bones, I’d like you to have the first dance.”  
  
G’raha returns her grin. “The permission has been granted. Race you to the Aethernet shard?”  
  
“You’re on.”


End file.
